


Angry Dragon

by EvilDime



Series: Malfoy Manor [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Deepthroating, Dom Draco, Dom Lucius Malfoy, Domme Narcissa Malfoy, Dubious Consent, Foot Fetish, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Multi, Neglect, Open Relationships, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Child Abuse, Patronus, Polyamory, Potions, Rough Oral Sex, Scene Gone Wrong, Self Confidence Issues, Sexual Frustration, Sub Harry, Threesome - F/M/M, Under-negotiated Kink, Voyeurism, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 12:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilDime/pseuds/EvilDime
Summary: The Malfoys manage to chase Harry off; he seeks comfort in the arms of his wife - and her lovers.For once, things do not stay at the Manor.





	Angry Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> I found the definition of "angry dragon" on urbandictionary and this just needed to be written. Hope you enjoy!

Harry gasped, frantically pulling in air before the large hand ruthlessly pushed him back down.

Harry kept his lips firmly rolled over his teeth, licking and sucking as much as possible with the thick cock plunging far down his throat again and again. Harry had a lot more experience now than he did nineteen years ago, and still the exercise never failed to bring tears to his eyes.

Also, he'd never done this with anyone but Draco.

This was... He gasped in another huge breath of air when the chance presented itself, spat out a fine strand of blond hair that intruded unbidden, then bent to his task once more.

This was not what he had expected when he entered the manor three hours ago.

He and Draco had arranged a meeting for four o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Ginny had laughingly agreed to let Harry go and made her own plans for the weekend with Seamus and Dean. They had both gotten ready together, first taking a joint shower, teasing each other but not letting it go too far, just getting riled up for later. Then they had gotten dressed, consulting each other on wardrobe and - in Ginny's case - matching jewellery. It had been fun, warm and companionable.

Harry had arrived at the manor in high spirits.

Draco hadn't been there yet, but there was a potion and a letter addressed to Harry on the little table in Draco's antechamber.  
  


_Potter -_

_Drink the potion. It will make you desperate._

_I shall arrive within the hour. I expect you to be waiting_ _right here,_ _naked, kneeling, blindfolded and hard when I get_ _home._

_-_ _D.M._

 

Harry had flushed in anticipation. He had taken off the fine clothing Ginny had helped him pick  out  and carefully arranged it over the back of a chair. Then he had  used a couple quick spells to adjust the temperature to his liking,  soften the carpet and protect his legs from falling asleep from the awkward angle. 

Finally, he had put down his wand with his clothes and downed the potion. He got his favourite black silk blindfold from the cabinet  in the bedroom  and gracefully sank to his knees in the  centre of the plush carpet decorating  the  antechamber. 

Then, he waited.

It was not easy to wait  for any stretch of time with nothing to do. It was even harder without anything to track the passage of time by, and worse to do it in such an uncomfortable position. The spell guaranteed that Harry's circulation did not fail, but it did nothing to make the long time spent in perfect position - on his knees, back straight, arms folded on his back - at all comfortable. 

Harry had arrived already aroused from fooling around with Ginny; anticipation of the session had kept him half-hard through his preparations. The potion kicked in not long thereafter and raised him from half-mast to fully erect.

This, of course, did not improve the wait any.

Frankly, it was hell. Draco had not exaggerated when he said it would make Harry desperate. Harry had no true sense of time, what with his eyes closed and no ticking clock anywhere nearby, but he was sure his hour wasn't even half up when the urge to get his hands in front of him and _do something_ about his raging hard-on became nearly overwhelming. 

But Harry restrained himself. Draco had trained him well, and Harry enjoyed obeying his commands. Also, the rewards were usually worth it. 

Harry distracted himself by once again imagining what his colleagues would say if they could see the hardened Auror Captain begging and writhing  as Draco Malfoy used him as his personal fucktoy.  It was not something he wanted in real life, but the  thought of the shock, the disbelief and horror on their faces was entertaining. In a deranged sort of way. 

The little fantasy carried him through a good handful of moments, but still having no measure of how much time had passed, Harry could only gloomily conclude that it hadn't been enough, apparently. He huffed out a frustrated breath and slumped a little. 

What  might Draco be doing right now? As far as Harry was aware, he worked weekends even less frequently than Harry did, and he would not have ordered Harry here on a day when he had to work. They were in agreement that the game was better when both of them were well rested.  He might be with his family, but usually he only  invited Harry  to the manor  when Astoria and the kids were out of town; visiting Astoria's parents or what have you. 

Maybe Draco was only a couple of rooms away, drinking tea and biding his time until Harry's hour of desperation had passed. Harry whiled away another good chunk of his hour imagining  Draco playing a lonely game of solitaire; indeed drinking tea and having some fancy little cakes with it; wanking because he couldn't wait, the tosser; or maybe flipping channels on his son's telly to pass the time. 

The ancient grandfather clock in the hallway struck the full hour, the muffled sound easily reaching Harry through the silent  manor.

Finally!

Harry corrected his posture, straightening his shoulders, gripping the opposite elbows more firmly with each hand,  ears straining for a hint of Draco's footsteps. 

And waited.

After a while, he loosened his arms once more, frowning. Where was Draco? What was taking him so long? Making Harry wait until he was desperate was all nice and good, but why would he indicate a specific time and then not stick with it? Except for the grandfather clock, Harry had no way to track the time anyway, so any mind games involving the extent of his wait were a bit moot.

But then again, maybe Draco had a different purpose in mind. Harry sighed grandly, but decided to stick it out. Surely, Draco was going somewhere with this. If Harry was a good boy and obediently stayed put despite his discomfort, surely he would be rewarded eventually. He usually was.

It was hard, though, and that was not only a bad pun, but also the simple truth.

For a while, Harry drifted off on a nice little fantasy of what Draco might do to him when he came home. His prick seemed to hurt more every time he let himself be consciously aware of it. Also, his nose itched and he kind of needed the bathroom.

This sucked.

Harry waited. And waited. And waited.

_To hell with it!_ he finally decided and raised one hand to at least take care of that bloody itch. Of course, that's when the long-anticipated footsteps finally  approached from down  the hall. 

Harry quickly returned the hand behind his back where it belonged.  _Draco!_ his body sang in elation. 

But... Those steps sounded wrong. Either Draco had new boots or he was walking strange, but those were not the footsteps Harry was used to. Also, there was a strange echo to them, like a second person might be following him.

Blood pulsed hotly in Harry's cheeks and down into his cock. They'd talked sometimes about involving a third person in their games, but never gone through with it, both too concerned with a potential breach of their privacy, as well as fairly happy with what they could do with just the two of them.

Still, Harry did have some fantasies.  Every single one of them flashed through his mind while those footsteps approached the door to Draco's chambers.  Then a cool rush of air announced the opening of the door. 

"Well."

Harry froze. That was most definitely  _not_ Draco's voice. But Harry knew that voice as well, knew it much better than he would have liked. 

"Well, that is certainly a surprise," Lucius Malfoy said.

"Mister Malfoy!" Harry felt his fledgling blush  spreading downward as though carried upon a bolt of lightning. He  brought up his hands and ripped the blindfold from his eyes, muscles tensing to bring him to his feet in a quick hop,  and -

"STAY DOWN."

The command tore through him with the strength of a wrecking ball.  Harry jerked  and fell back on his haunches.  The blindfold slipped through his fingers and fluttered down to the floor unnoticed. 

With widening eyes, Harry saw Mrs. Malfoy stepping up beside her husband after closing the door. "How lovely to see you, Mister Potter."

Harry gulped. His hands moved to his crotch, vainly trying to cover up his nakedness.  The blood in his prick was still pulsing madly, making it hard to focus on anything but the urgent need to get off. 

Looking up at Draco's parents again, he saw the two aristocratic blonds looking at Draco's letter. Mister Malfoy read quietly, then handed the letter over to his wife and stepped in front of Harry. It hadn't even occurred to Harry to get up while the lord and lady were busy, and now it was too late. He craned his neck to look up at the tall man.

The grandfather clock out in the hall struck six o'clock.

"As the lord of this manor, the house elves are instructed to inform me of any strangers  entering the manor unaccompanied by a member of my family. I am, of course, aware of your... dalliances with my son, hence the news of your arrival did not alarm me. However, when my son still had not returned from his errands two hours after your arrival, I felt a need to ascertain the innocuous nature of your visit."

Lucius waved  the letter. "It appears that my son has been rather remiss in his duty to his guest," he said loftily. "As senior member of his family, I feel it is my obligation to remedy  his failure.  Now, HANDS ON YOUR BACK!"

Harry found himself obeying before he had a chance to think things through.

"Very good," Malfoy said softly, stepping closer to brush a light hand through Harry's hair. Harry hadn't really parsed the man's words, but he leaned into the touch anyway, keening quietly. He needed, he _needed_ so desperately...

The hand suddenly firmed in his hair, pulling sharply. "Up," Malfoy commanded. Harry quickly scrambled to his feet, trying not to stumble too badly while keeping his arms behind his back. Malfoy directed him over to one of the slender, elegant chairs  with the barely-there excuse of a back. Harry sat down, managing not to wince or massage his scalp after Malfoy released his hair.

A set of soft, silkily gloved hands descended on Harry's shoulders, moving down from there, lightly touching his shoulder blades, the small of his back, his sensitive sides. He writhed in place, treasuring the touch.  Mrs. Malfoy's hands were careful. Not hesitant, but reverent, as though he were something precious. 

After being deprived of any sensory input for  a full two hours, with a potion in his system that made him extra needy, the intentional, pleasant touch of another person was bliss.  Harry moaned to show his appreciation, and one of the hands came up to lightly pat his cheek. 

Mister Malfoy's hand, meanwhile, had travelled  from his head down his torso and  gripped one of his thighs. "Open up," he directed, pushing against the leg. 

Harry obeyed,  spreading his legs to either side as far as they would go. 

"Lovely," Malfoy said, and Harry had no idea if the man was being honest or sarcastic. Nor did he care, for Mrs. Malfoy used the opportunity to slide one of her hands around to his front. The soft touch feathered down over his belly and into the crease between hip and upper thigh. 

It felt amazing.

Harry tried to keep himself from moving around too much, but he really wanted to writhe under her hands... and to find something to hump until he came.

He whined in frustrated desire. Couldn't that hand reach just a little further to the right? His erection was fit to burst, and it was _right there_. Surely she couldn't have missed it. 

But Mrs. Malfoy kept calmly stroking his inner thigh, while Mister Malfoy took a firmer approach on the other side. His fingers dug into Harry's skin, twisting a little, leaving rough red marks in their wake. Harry moaned at the mix of pleasure and pain.

"Now tell me, Mister Potter," Malfoy spoke up, "why did you drink the potion my son deposited for you?"

Harry moaned at another sharp pinch, then tried to gather enough brain cells past he pulsating, horrible  _need_ to form a coherent answer. "I trust him not to harm me," he managed. 

"Obviously so," Mister Malfoy said disdainfully, "but I ask you again: Why did you take the potion?"

"Sir?" Harry really didn't know what the man wanted from him. This was not a good time to ask him any questions, couldn't Malfoy see that? Harry whined and humped the air to get his point across.

Malfoy answered with an even harder pinch, making Harry gasp and shrink back into Mrs. Malfoy's tender caress.

"You seem a little slow, Mister Potter," Malfoy stated, if possible with even more condescension than before. "Let me tell you, then: You took the potion because you are a  sick, needy  little whore."

The words hit Harry like a bucket of ice  water.  What were the Malfoys playing at? If they disapproved of his and Draco's arrangement, couldn't they just have said so? Did they need to stomp in and  _humiliate_ him like that?

Anything else the man might have said went right over Harry's head. Suddenly, the hands on his body were an unwelcome intrusion, too intimate, too close.

Despite the burning flush of shame and the bristling anger, Harry's erection did not go down.

Curse that potion.

Harry enjoyed some humiliation, it was true. When Draco called him his personal fucktoy, his masochistic pet or even his lovely little whore, Harry got off on it. But then, he knew that Draco liked what they did together. Far from condemning Harry for his kinks, he thoroughly approved. Draco was glad to have Harry as his play partner, and he let him know it.

Harry felt secure with Draco. Respected.

With Malfoy Senior, however, he had always felt like something the older man had scraped off the sole of his shoe. And that hadn't changed when Malfoy had lost all his previous political power while Harry became _th_ _e_ British hero, once and for all. Every time they ran into each other, Malfoy still managed to look down on Harry. And despite all he had accomplished, all he had been through, Harry still _let_ him. He couldn't help but feel intimidated by the dominant man, perfectly poised no matter the situation, always seeming to be on top of things, and having people falling over themselves to serve him left and right. 

The man had presence and he knew it. 

But this.

What gave Malfoy the right to treat Harry like this? He had done nothing wrong by coming here! Draco had invited him, and if the stupid tosser hadn't _forgotten_ about him and left him to his fate, everything would have been fine!

But no, Draco had let him down, and now Malfoy's parents had gotten a hold of a seemingly defenceless Harry and decided to humiliate him.

Right.

Harry uncurled from the ball he had unconsciously transformed into at the elder Malfoy's cruel words. He had no trouble brushing off both Malfoys' hands - they withdrew  on their own at his first hint at the gesture. 

Harry stood up, taking a couple of steps away from the Malfoys, then turned to face them. Green lightning flashed in his eyes as his anger built. The first time, way back in that cell, it had happened by accident, but since that day, he had learned to control it. Now, he could call up that bit of wandless magic at will. He only used it sparingly, though; he didn't like the kind of talk it engendered.

Right now, he was beyond caring.

"How dare you," he said, eyes searing with the greenish glow they emitted. 

The Malfoys seemed utterly nonplussed.  Both were standing with their hands loosely held at their sides, not a wand in sight, and staring at him like they couldn't quite believe what was happening. 

"Mister Potter," Mrs. Malfoy said hesitantly, "will you please tell us what is wrong?"

"As if you didn't know that!" Harry snarled. He had mostly gotten over his shitty childhood, but in moments like this, the years of torment at his relatives' hands always bubbled up from where he had buried them. Harry felt like he was drowning in  all the cruelty, the neglect, the open hostility and the constant put-downs he had suffered as a child, freshly awoken by the Malfoys' cruel, hurtful game. 

And his cock still  throbbed  with frustrated need. 

"We really don't," Mister Malfoy informed him.

"Don't what?" Harry growled.

"We don't know what we have done to anger you so," Mrs. Malfoy said, sounding mildly alarmed, yet apparently trying for a soothing tone.

Harry glowered at them. "If you  wanted me gone, you just had to says so. You didn't need to play this sick game to humiliate me."

"But Mister Potter..." Malfoy seemed at a loss. "I had thought you liked humiliation."

Startled, Harry barked out a laugh.  "Say what?" The green receded from his eyes. 

"If it was my words that gave you offence, Mister Potter," Malfoy said, back to his usual silky-smooth tone, "I apologize. I truly thought you would enjoy them."

"Enjoy...?" Oh.

OH!

Still naked as the day he was born, but now flushed red from between his ears all the way down to his toes he was sure, Harry sat down on the floor right where he stood and buried his face in his hands.

"Oh my god this is embarrassing."

"Are you quite alright?" Mrs. Malfoy asked, and the aloof pureblood lady's concerned voice actually had Harry chuckling.

"Well this is nicely fucked up," Harry stated drily.

"Language, Mister Potter," Malfoy scolded, though there was little heat behind the words. "There are ladies present."

Harry grinned into his hands. Ladies. Right. Because it was very lady-like to be fondling a man half your age while your husband is trying out his best dirty talk on the guy.

A guy who failed to recognize dirty talk when he heard it.

Okay, not the worst blunder Harry had ever made, but it ranked way up there.

Harry finally took down his hands to sheepishly smile up at the couple. "I am really sorry, Sir, Ma'am. I misunderstood."

Malfoy frowned. "What was there to misunderstand?"

Harry sighed. "You might be surprised to hear this, but my self-confidence is actually fairly bad. I can enjoy certain derogatory terms from people in whose respect I trust, but from anyone else? They just hurt." He looked fully at Malfoy. "Sorry, but I don't actually trust that you respect me."

Malfoy's frown deepened. "You thought I was  speaking  in earnest."

"Yes."

Lady Malfoy sighed and sat down in Harry's abandoned chair. "What a nice fuck-up indeed."

Harry choked.

Mrs. Malfoy raised one perfect eyebrow at him. "I do believe your earlier words are quite appropriate to the situation, Mister Potter, so why should I not speak them?  After all," and here she smirked openly, "there are no ladies present whose sensibilities  _I_ could hurt."

Harry grinned at her. Alright, so maybe he could actually like these people. 

"Right," he said. "Stupid misunderstanding. I guess I... I better go then, don't I?" He made as if to get up, but Malfoy's hand raised in a clear STOP gesture gave him pause.

"I understand if you wish to quit at this point," Malfoy said slowly, "but if you want to give this another try, I for one would be willing.  I shall refrain from further coarse language, but rest assured I do not wish to see you return home still aching from  this potion my fool of a son gave you."

Harry considered this. He was still in pain, it was true, and if he knew Draco at all, it might even be a potion that made it impossible for him to find relief at his own hands. Staying with the Malfoys was actually his safest bet. 

He was still incredibly hard. And they were offering.

"Fuck," he stated. "Okay."

But if he was going to do this, he wanted to do it right. Malfoy's unfortunate words might have ripped him right out of his submissive mindset, but he did enjoy his sessions with Draco best when he went under at least a little. The long wait had made him desperate, it was true, but if Malfoy just got him off now,  the whole experience  would certainly leave a bad taste. 

Much better to have fun while doing it.

So Harry went from kneeling to crawling, setting his hands to the floor in front of him and slowly, sensuously making his way back to Mister Malfoy. Upon reaching the man, he looked up with wide eyes and said: "Please, Sir, will you make use of me?"

Malfoy smirked down at him. "That's the spirit." His hand came down to Harry's neck and pushed him to the floor. There must have been a silent conversation going on above his head, because a moment later, dainty little feet in classy, high-heeled sandals came into his field of vision.

"Lick her toes," Malfoy commanded. Harry smiled at the order and  got busy.  The toes wriggled now and then, but otherwise, the only response he got from Mrs. Malfoy was a tiny, happy sigh. 

Harry dared to strip one foot of its shoe and went about lightly massaging the sole as he fellated one toe after the other. They were very handsome feet, slim, well-pedicured, the toenails shimmering just so to suggest natural beauty rather than  an expensive nail tonic.  Also, they were clean as though Mrs. Malfoy had just stepped out of her bath  and been carried here on angels' wings.

This was a lot different from his usual games with Draco, but Harry found he rather enjoyed it. He'd never given feet much thought. Clearly, he had been remiss. 

A soft moan escaped Harry's mouth before it closed around Mrs. Malfoy's toes again. The lady herself remained mostly silent, calmly collecting the carresses that were her due.

Mister Malfoy, on the other hand, made a lot more noise. He dragged over a chair for his wife to sit down in, then another for himself. Taking his seat, he then proceeded to flap open his robes, pop the button on his trousers and shove them down a little. 

Harry didn't see any of this, attention focused on the pretty feet in front of him, but the noises were fairly easy to place. As was the rhythmic slapping sound that followed.

Harry flushed at the thought of the elder Malfoy jerking himself off to the  sight of Harry licking his wife's feet. Somehow, now that he was past his  earlier  humiliation, he found the situation utterly erotic. 

Suddenly, the feet withdrew. "Enough now," Mrs. Malfoy's voice commanded him, soft yet firm. "Go pleasure my husband."  One of the feet gave him a nudge. 

Harry obeyed,  partially  sitting up in front of Mister Malfoy.  His eyes  came up to level with the man's erect penis.  Malfoy had stopped pleasuring himself and now laid both hands on Harry's head. 

"Just so there are no further misunderstandings," Malfoy purred, "are you fine with giving head?"  
"Yes, Sir," Harry answered happily.

"Deep-throating?" Malfoy further queried.

"Yes, Sir!" Harry said emphatically.

"Being forced?" There was a good bit of humour in the man's voice now.

" _Please_ , Sir," Harry gasped. 

"Very good," Malfoy said calmly, then proceeded to drag Harry's head down into his crotch.  One of his  feet, however, strayed between Harry's own, giving him something to rub up against.

Harry fell onto the hard cock with a will.  He slurped and sucked and bobbed,  all the while humping the aristocrat's expensive  shoe. 

Finally, something was going his way on this absurdly disastrous day!

Harry lost himself in  servicing Mister Malfoy, only aware of Mrs. Malfoy  in the form of a guilty background pleasure at being watched.  Occasionally, a hand would softly brush his nape, but while pleasant, the sensation took a backseat to the intense sensations happening to his  mouth and his crotch.

Harry moaned in pleasure whenever he had time to  draw breath. More often, though, Malfoy's hands pushed him down and  kept him there for  long stretches of time, fucking  his mouth and throat with abandon. 

Harry no longer panicked nowadays, having gotten used to the feeling of a cock down his throat. Of course, Draco had in his turn learned not to obstruct his airways for so long. It seemed that his father also knew not to suffocate Harry.

His father. Still a strange thought, but right now, Harry was blissfully unaware of any inherent problems in this arrangement. He was entirely lost in his task of sucking Malfoy's cock  while enjoying the freedom of rubbing his own sensitive  prick against a nice, smooth surface at will. 

Then the door opened. 

"What is going on here!" Draco sounded furious.

"Draco," Mrs. Malfoy said calmly, "as you can see, we are taking care of your guest. Since you failed to entertain him  as you should have done."

Harry was, right at that moment, buried nose-deep in Mister Malfoy's crotch, incapable of making any comment. Draco's appearance had startled him badly, though. His throat constricted. He felt Malfoy's hands bury in the hair behind his ears, keeping him down as his hips pistoned up.

"Harry!" Draco's voice reached him sluggishly as through a fog. "Head up and face me when I'm talking to you!"

Then three things happened at once. Harry tried to straighten up just when Mister Malfoy came; and Draco delivered an angry slap to the back of his head.

Bitter come splashed on Harry's tongue and shot straight up into his nose. It burned!

Deeply shocked, Harry pushed at Mister Malfoy's thighs, ripping his head off the still spurting erection, and gasped for air as gooey spunk dripped from his nostrils. "OUCH!" he yelled. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

Jumping to his feet, he burst through the doors to the bathroom and started frantically trying to wash the apparently acidic spunk out of his nose. This hurt like nothing sacred.

Fuck, this was bad. ...And gross.

Over the running water and his own crying and cursing, Harry heard only snippets of the conversation happening back in the antechamber. It was enough for him to get the idea that all three Malfoys were angry with each other.

"... _my_ guest, does that mean anything to you?" he heard Draco yelling. 

"...obviously neglected  to plan ..." was part of Mister Malfoy's answer, and "…harmless bit of fun..."

"...quite ashamed of you," Mrs. Malfoy chimed in. "...whatever possessed you to..."

It took a while, but eventually, his nose stopped smarting quite so badly and he gave up on the idea that more water would do him any good. Wiping off his face on a fluffy white towel, Harry considered his face in the mirror.  Bleary red eyes, flushed cheeks decorated by red spots where Malfoy's fingers had gripped them, hair standing up any which way. 

Shite, but he looked a wreck.

Still, no use staying in the bathroom forever. He tuned in to the argument raging just in time to hear Draco snarling: "Well you wouldn't like it if I played with your toys either, father."

Right.

Because he really was just a toy to Draco. And apparently, it was quite alright to leave a toy  sitting around unattended for hours despite any previous agreements. 

Harry was in pain, and now more frustrated than ever. Without his conscious thought, his eyes began to spark once more.

"Enough." The word was quiet, but all three Malfoys stopped talking at once and looked at him. Harry didn't know what they saw; between his naked body, his  wrecked  face and the trembling fists clenched at his sides, he must strike a ridiculous figure. But the Malfoys all watched him like a dangerous animal that just escaped its cage. 

Just as well.

He stalked towards Draco. "Enough. You will stop fighting right this minute. You were not here. I was in pain, your parents offered to help, I accepted. That's all that happened. Where do you get off scolding anyone for what they did here?"

"You were not supposed to offer yourself to anyone but me," Draco growled.

"Well, then maybe you should have _been here!"_ Harry yelled. Furious, he gathered up his clothes under his left arm, took his wand in his right, and apparated. 

__

Harry still didn't know why Draco had been so late, or what exactly was in that potion. He didn't care. He felt horrible, and needy, and abandoned. 

He wanted Ginny.

Not giving himself time to second-guess the action, he raised his wand and summoned his patronus. "Gin," he told it, "today went really badly for me. I'm awfully sorry to be interrupting you, but can you come straight home when you get done? I need... I need a hug," he confessed to the deer. 

Hunching in on himself, he sent it off  and retreated to the sofa to curl up into a  still naked  little ball,  his discarded clothes and wand a sad pile in the middle of the living room floor. 

Much sooner than expected, Ginny's glowing horse burst through the wall and reared up in front of him. Dramatic, as always. It elicited a tired smile from the human ball on the sofa. The smile slipped and was replaced with a look of awe and wonder as soon as the horse spoke. 

_ "I'm so sorry to hear that, love!  Do you... I know we've never even talked about this, but do you want to join us here? We're at Dean  and Seamus's place, and there's certainly room for one more. The boys won't mind. I asked." _

Harry's wife was the best woman in the whole wide world. 

Harry gulped, trying to keep the tears he felt burning in the corners of his eyes from falling. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and remained like that for a couple of minutes, just slowly breathing in and out.

Then he called it good, jumped up and raced to the bathroom. He took a very hot shower, scrubbing himself clean of anything Malfoy. One of his hands found its own way down to his still painfully erect cock. Sadly, it was as he had feared: He could do _nothing_ about it on his own. 

Howling in frustration, Harry finished his shower, then slipped into a loose pair of drawstring trousers and a shirt. Fishing his cloak from the pile and throwing it around his shoulders, he grabbed up his wand and apparated.

The guys' place was a flat in Muggle London. Harry appeared in a tiny alley around the corner, then quickly walked up to the door and rang the bell. The material of his soft pants was chafing against his raw prick, even the slightest bit of friction too much at this point. He whined quietly while he waited for the door to open. Finally, he was buzzed inside. For once, he took the elevator rather than the stairs.

Dean looked surprised to see him exiting from the vehicle, but one look at Harry's face seemed to quell any questions. Dean mutely waved him inside and closed the door.

Harry immediately dropped to his knees and started keening.

Ginny, who'd just exited the bedroom, looking a bit mussed but happy, lost her smile at the sight. "Harry! Oh my god, what has that bastard done to you? Are you badly hurt?"

She dropped to her knees in front of him and took him into a very gentle embrace, cautious not to aggravate any injuries.

Harry fell into her arms and sobbed.

The embrace firmed in tiny increments, his lack of a flinch or a No encouraging Ginny to tighten her hold. "Harry, please," she whispered in his ear, "please tell me what is wrong."

"It's just, I dunno," Harry began, barely discernible underneath his sobs, "everything just went to shit today." As he talked, he quieted down a little and his words became more fluent.

"Are you hurt?" Ginny asked again.

"Not really, no," Harry said. "My ego is fairly bruised, my nostrils are on fire and I have a potion-induced hard-on that is killing me, but otherwise, I am actually fine."

"A potion-induced hard-on, huh?" Ginny said. "Well let me help you with that, at least."

Hands were underneath Harry's arms then, gently guiding him upwards, and then he followed Ginny through to the bedroom. She laid him on the bed and gently climbed on top of him. "This alright?" she asked.

"You are the best woman in the entire world," Harry repeated his earlier thoughts.

Ginny beamed a smile at him and sank down, taking his length in one fluid, practised motion. Harry moaned at finally, finally getting the attention he needed.

It didn't take much. Harry's poor cock had been so over-stimulated for so long, Ginny barely had to lift up and lower herself a dozen times before Harry was coming, helplessly convulsing underneath her, tears once again leaking from his eyes.

"Oh my god, _thank you!"_ He reached up and pulled Ginny down into a wet, but passionate kiss. "I love you so, so much."

"Yeah, you're just saying that because of the sex," Ginny said, climbing off him and curling into his side.

"Sure," Harry replied easily, the familiar banter putting him further at ease, " 's not like I want your kids or something."

"You better don't want any more," Ginny replied, "three are quite enough, I don't want to be ballooning up again any time soon."

"Don't let your mother hear that," an amused voice from Harry's right threw in, "I'm sure the woman is still hoping you'll have more children than she did."

Harry looked over to see Dean and Seamus comfortably snuggled up on the sofa.  Seamus waved at him.  "Lovely show," he commented, "if a bit short."

Harry laughed, startled, but not offended. Now that the worst of his physical pain was dealt with, he was rapidly surfacing from the well of despair his breakdown had plunged him into. With every bit of warmth Ginny's closeness gave him, he felt his spirits rising. "I don't know what Ginny has told you about our sex life-"

"Only good things," Dean threw in.

"- but this is not our normal. I'm not usually this fast, nor do I cry quite so much." He wiped his once again sticky face in disgust.

"That's fine, mate," Seamus told him. "We all have bad days. And it sounds like yours was spectacularly bad."

Harry nodded furiously. He looked at Ginny, then at the guys. He knew without asking that they would keep his secrets. So... "You won't believe this. I still can't believe it, and I'm the one who just lived it."

"What, Harry?" Ginny asked, snuggling up a bit closer. "Come on, out with it."

"I just had sex with Malfoy's father," Harry came right out with it. "While his mother was watching."

Stunned silence.

"Come again?" Dean asked.

"Oh, I wish," Harry  mumbled, but then answered the question. "No, really: When I got to the manor, Malfoy wasn't there, only a letter instructing me to drink that stupid aphrodisiac and wait for him. And then, guess what? He failed to show! After I'd been sitting there, painfully hard but meekly waiting for him like a good boy for _two fucking hours,_ guess who walks in? Yep, that's right: Not Malfoy, but his parents."

"Wait," Ginny said slowly, "so did he plan this?"

Harry laughed. "God, no! He finally came in maybe half an hour later - what time is it, anyway? - and made quite the scene. Also, he hit my head just when Mister Malfoy came and I snorted up the stuff. Worst. Feeling. Ever!"

Everyone winced in sympathy. Dean glanced at the clock on the mantle to inform Harry it was half seven.

"Wow, so he was a good three hours late. I can't believe that prick!" Harry was too wrung out to get angry again, but he still felt a lowly simmering resentment underneath the plain hurt.

"So he  stood you up and  hit you at a bad time, but that alone wouldn't have wrecked you so completely," Ginny observed. 

"Well, no. There was also the frustration from the potion. I was getting there, _finally,_ after suffering for nearly three hours. But then Draco came in and ruined it.  And even that, I might have managed to deal with, if my emotions hadn't already turned to shit before that."

"What happened?" Seamus asked. His voice was much closer now. Harry hadn't even noticed that he had closed his eyes in exhaustion, but now he opened them again to see Dean and Seamus framing Ginny and him on both sides.

"Okay if I hug you?" Seamus asked. Harry searched his face for a moment, then nodded. Seamus cuddled up to him from the front. Now he was sandwiched between Ginny and Seamus and it felt really, really good.

"I crashed," Harry admitted in the safety of his wife's and her lover's arms. "I first panicked when the Malfoys walked in. I mean, picture me kneeling naked on their son's carpet, blindfolded and with an obvious erection." He chuckled. In hindsight, it was already becoming a bit funny. "But they were really good about it and seemed seriously interested in helping me out. Who knew the rest of that family was also that kinky!"

"Who indeed," Ginny mused and Harry wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was: If the elder Malfoys were as kinky as their son, might they have done anything to Ron and Hermione while the trio was captured in Malfoy Manor? They had both looked alright when they came to pick him up  from his cell  \- certainly worlds better than he did - and they'd never said anything. But still, what if?

Harry shook off the thought. Even if anything like that had happened, Seamus and Dean did not need to know about it.  "So at first it seemed like everything would be alright," he continued his tale. "Weird, but alright.  Then, unfortunately, Malfoy went Dursley on me."

Ginny flinched and hugged Harry tighter. He could feel Dean and Seamus's questioning glances, but for now he just wanted to let himself be hugged. Ginny seemed to know this and answered for him.  "You know how Harry never got along with his relatives, right? Well, they were abusive."

There. Plain as day.

Harry flushed, but was also kind of glad to have it out in the open.

"So... Ginny told us you were a submissive and fairly kinky. What kind of abuse, I mean..." Dean floundered.

Harry came to his rescue. "They never sexually abused me, if that's what you're asking. But they did slap me around a lot, and maybe it's weird that I am now into some of that stuff. Many forms of 'abuse' can be arousing for me in the right setting, and with the right people. I can take a lot from Draco, because I know he respects me." He frowned. "Or used to, anyway. Right now, I'm not sure. But still. If he calls me names, insults me, humiliates me, it's all good because I'm confident in my relationship with him. He means to humiliate me, but he also respects who and what I am. If that makes sense?"

Affirmative noises were made, and Harry continued. "But can you actually picture Mister Malfoy respecting me? I can't. So when he started insulting me, all I could think was that they were playing an evil game with me just to humiliate me."

"Ooh, ouch," Seamus commented and also hugged Harry tighter.

"Yeah," Harry  mumbled into his chest.  "So I lost it. I was  _this_ close to cursing them." He made an appropriate gesture,  which no-one saw because Dean had dragged a blanket over the lot of them. "I felt  darn foolish when I realized they'd never intended any harm."

"So you made up, got the session back on track, and then the other Malfoy walked in and lost it?" Seamus summed up what Harry had told them earlier while his hand caressed Harry's side. 

"And also managed to hurt me," Harry added. "Yes."

Dean whistled. "That  _is_ one shitty day."

"It was," Harry agreed, "but it's much better now."

"They are very good at making shitty days better," Ginny purred.

Harry felt himself arching into Seamus's touch. "They are, at that." In fact... His erection was coming back online.  Harry squeezed his eyes shut.  "Oh, crap."

"What is it, love?"

Seamus had already noticed, though. His hand crept between their bodies, taking hold of Harry's quickly stiffening cock  through his trousers . "I think I know what the problem is," he announced to the room. "The question is: Do I get to take care of it?"

Harry's eyes had snapped open at the firm touch, only to meet Seamus's warm orbs.  The Irishman was smiling at him. "Do I?"  The hand on Harry's cock gave it a friendly squeeze. 

Harry moaned. "Oh, please!"  His eyes fell shut again, making him miss Seamus's delighted grin. He could not possibly miss the impossibly wonderful strokes the man was giving his once again straining cock,  though.

Harry blindly moved into the touch, getting a chuckle out of Seamus. Then Ginny's hands were on his waistband, pulling down his trousers underneath the blanket. Seamus's touch felt even better on his naked skin. 

"Mmmh!" Harry moaned and twisted around until he was lying on his back, with Seamus and Ginny both bent over him to watch his face as he writhed in pleasure.

"That's a lovely sight," Seamus remarked, "come have a look."

Suddenly Dean was there as well, kneeling at the foot of the bed and looking up at Harry with purpose in his gaze.  "Want us to take care of you properly?" he asked. 

Seamus's hand on Harry's cock stilled.

Harry looked around into the three faces of his wife and her lovers.  "You mean...?"

"There's three of us," Ginny said, voice gone low and throaty. "I figure one of the boys could fuck your mouth, the other your ass, while I blow you."

Desire shot through Harry like a jet of lava. He moaned loudly and his eyes fell shut again. "Oh my god _please_!"

"This alright with you both?" Ginny asked.

"Yeeah," Seamus said, drawing out the syllable with audible delight. Harry could picture him licking  his lips in anticipation.  "Can I have his mouth?"

Harry nodded, while Dean said: "I'll be quite happy fucking that delicious piece of ass."

There was an awkward pause as everyone realized that this might have been entirely too derogatory.

"I'm s-sorry, Harry," Dean hastened to say, stumbling over his words. "I didn't mean..."

Harry laughed softly. "You're fine, Dean. I won't believe for one second that you meant to insult me just now. And yes, you may fuck my delicious piece of ass." He snickered.

"Great," Ginny said, "then it's settled."

They quickly determined between the four of them that the easiest way to do this would be for Harry to get up on all fours, with the guys kneeling in front and behind him and Ginny lying on her back below his hips. It would be hell on her neck, but she assured them she could deal with it. 

Ginny was one competent lady, so no-one dared question her.

They all stripped and the blanket was kicked off the end of the bed.  Before anyone needed to get into position, though, Harry had to be prepared. It was a really,  _really_ strange feeling to have Dean fingering his ass while their respective partners were sitting next to them on the bed, watching avidly. Strange, but not entirely unpleasant. Ginny's fingers played with Harry's hair as he slowly relaxed under Dean's ministrations,  while he got to watch Seamus fondling Ginny's breasts  above his head. He'd never seen them squeezed from this angle. It was quite the sight. 

As Harry's lower half got increasingly interested in what Dean was doing, his eyes stayed focused on Seamus and Ginny above him. One of Seamus's hands had left Ginny's breasts and slid lower to play between her thighs. Ginny moaned softly and spread her legs to both sides of Harry's head. Harry couldn't watch what Seamus's hand was doing, but he could look up into Ginny's face. Judging by her reaction, he was doing something right. Very much so.

A jolt went through Harry and his head jerked up, eyes losing Ginny and finding Dean instead. Dean, who had just found Harry's prostate and was now happily hammering it with two fingers. "Bastard," Harry mouthed, but then he laid his head back down, closing his eyes to just enjoy.

While Harry whined and twisted on the sheets, Dean went on drumming up against his prostate for quite a bit before finally calling it good. "I think Harry's as ready as he is going to get," he pronounced.

"Been ready," Harry complained.  No-one seemed to mind the whining. They all just got into position, dragging him along and chuckling as they did. 

That, of course, was the moment a white peacock patronus chose to burst into the chamber.

 _"Mister Potter,"_ it said with Malfoy's voice, _"Please accept my wife's and my apologies for what happened today. We never intended to hurt you and we hope you will not hold this incident against us. For what it's worth, we were fairly shocked ourselves. We hope you are not alone right now. Please take care of yourself."_

"Huh," Harry said, sitting back on his haunches as the patronus faded. "I suppose I'd better answer that." He summoned Prongs. "Mister Malfoy," he said formally, "I accept both of your apologies. Things went downhill fast, but I do not blame you. I am not alone right now, so don't worry."

"We're taking good care of Harry," Ginny chimed in. Prongs looked at her, accepting her contribution.

"In fact, we're happy to," Dean chimed in.

"Tell your son he's a fool for having run this one off," Seamus added.

Prongs cocked his head at Harry questioningly. "All of it, verbatim please," Harry said with a soft smile. Prongs nodded and took off.

For a moment, everyone was still, each pondering the strangeness of the day. Ginny was the first to shake herself out of it. "Well come on, boys. Go get him!" With those words, she laid back down and took Harry's cock between her lips.

Harry moaned. Heavy-lidded eyes rose to find Seamus looking down on him, his own cock ready and waiting. Just as Harry got a good first lick, he felt the tip of Dean's cock brush against him. An ecstatic shudder went through Harry.

The day had started out so wonderful, light, full of friendly teasing with Ginny. Then he had left his lovely wife to her own pursuits while he went to Malfoy Manor for what he thought would be an afternoon of exciting mutual pleasure with Draco. What he had gotten instead was so far outside his frame of reference he couldn't even name all the emotions it evoked.

Finally, here he was: knelt on Dean and Seamus's bed, with Ginny's mouth around his cock, his own  lips  around Seamus's,  and Dean's cock breaching his hole in three... two... one... 

"Aah..." Harry's happy groan was muffled by Seamus's cock, but since he was not the only one moaning anyway, that was fine.

Slowly, they all started to move. Things were a bit choppy and awkward  at first, but after a while, Dean and Seamus worked out a good rhythm between them. It felt like they had done this before, and Harry didn't have to think hard on who they might have done it with. Ginny's mouth easily adjusting to the rhythm below him was  a nice hint, but it wouldn't exactly have been a hard puzzle even so.

Harry didn't mind. This felt glorious. If this was what Ginny got every time they separated to be with their respective other partners, Harry was happy for her. 

Harry had no idea how long they all moved together, enjoyed this together. Slowly, one after the other they reached their climax. Seamus went first, flushing Harry's mouth with salty, warm liquid. It tasted unfamiliar, very different from Draco's, and very, very exciting. Harry clenched in rapture, causing Dean behind him to gasp and increase his speed. By this point, Harry was exhausted from the day's trials, so he took the chance to lean down heavily on his elbows while in front of him, Seamus sat back on his haunches to catch his breath.

Harry shuddered and moaned. Ginny was now giving it her all, sucking and slurping and generally making a glorious mess underneath him. Dean was steadily pushing into him at a rough pace, perfectly nailing his prostate. Harry closed his eyes and just enjoyed.

After a while, he opened them again when the bed dipped in front of him. He watched Seamus lower his head between Ginny's legs where her body lay spread out perpendicular to Harry's. Ginny's tongue faltered for a quick breath, then with a moan came back online, more energetic than ever. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw her beautiful body writhe in pleasure, partially hidden underneath him, partially hidden by Seamus. He lowered his head between his arms and stared at her from that angle. Even as Seamus was pleasuring her, her read curls shifting around her on the mattress as she writhed, she still enthusiastically worked Harry's cock over like it was the best treat imaginable. She was perfect, so unbelievably perfect!

Harry groaned, deep and heart-felt, and emptied his pent-up arousal into Ginny's mouth.

He felt her swallow, then her tongue darted out to lick him clean. Harry gave a pleased huff and a mumbled "Ginny..."

Finally, he felt her retreat from underneath him. The instant she was out, he let himself collapse into the mattress.

"Oi!" Dean complained as he slipped out, but Harry just stuck out his rear, reached behind him and pulled Dean closer. "Sorry. I'm about ready to faint. But please, do take your pleasure. Use me any way you like." He curled up a little until he could look around at Dean, then smiled a dazed smile that was probably five apples short of a dozen. "D'you want me on my back or my front?" he asked, words slurring with pleasure and burgeoning exhaustion. "Not gonna sit on you, s'ry," he managed, "too tired."

"Uh. Should I leave you be?" Dean asked, uncertain.

Harry honest-to-god giggled. "Christ, no. I'm still good to go. And I _want_ you." He shot Dean a smokey look over his shoulder. "I really, really want you to use me for your pleasure."

Dean gulped. "Okay then." He gave Harry a light shove that sent him sprawling on his back. 

"Huh."

Harry felt a mild frown coming on. "What?"

"You're already hard again."

Harry whined.

"Don't worry," Dean promised, smoothly slipping into him once more, "we'll take good care of you."

And they did.

* * *

"...and then to hear that she just _killed_ herself, oh it made me so _mad!_ Can you believe that woman? What about the children, huh? Did she spare a single thought for her children? No. That selfish cow just did herself in. I know, I know, don't speak ill of the dead and all that, she was a good friend; but really? Not a single thought for her kids? So I went over to the mainland to talk to Astoria about adopting, and I must have forgotten about the time difference. I really am sorry, you know? I was just so worried about the  little ones... But still. Potter. Any sensible person would have left after an hour and found someone else to help them out. Why did you stay for _two entire hours?_ I know you love pain, Potter, but even you..."

"Malfoy," Harry said, catching one of the wildly gesticulating hands. "Shuddup."

Then he kissed him.

Malfoy froze. Harry ended the kiss with a little lick to Malfoy's nose.

"Gross," Malfoy complained.

"Your punishment," Harry decreed. "Now take me to bed."

Malfoy might be a first-class prick, but he had his heart in the right place. And if he sometimes slipped,  well,  Harry had the best support network ever. He was sure he'd be alright. 


End file.
